Picking Up the Broken Pieces
I hung up the phone and sat for a moment in disbelief. “Lord, please help me. I can’t do this alone.” On the front porch, my daughters were anticipating their father’s arrival and I would soon watch their hopes melt into tears…
The Hidden Poverty of Middle-Class Single Mothers
All my years of theatrical acting experience did not prepare me for the show I put on that day. Most of the time, I was a master illusionist, able to transform my furrowed, single-momma brow into a display of peace and contentment. But that day was different, and I prayed I wouldn’t bump into anyone familiar…
Finding Christmas During Grief
Far too early on Christmas morning, my daughters burst into my bedroom with the announcement that Santa had come and it was time to wake up. At 10 and 4 years old, they knew the Christmas routine. No one could open a gift until Mom had her first cup of coffee…